Journey to the Impossible: Reflections from Ironman Lake Placid 2018

Nine years ago, John and I spectated our first Ironman Lake Placid. At that time, I had just finished my first handful of sprint distance events and one olympic distance event.  I had NEVER seen an Ironman race before (not even Kona on TV), and had only a functional understanding of the distances. Sure, I understood how they added up by the math, but I didn’t quite get how it was possible for the body to actually go 140.6 miles (you know, we all don’t like to drive that far 😜).

Even though I had already finished a few marathons, I kept wondering: how do people do all that swimming and biking first? 

We went to Lake Placid that year because my husband John intended to sign up to race the following year. Back then, there were so few Ironman races, so Ironman Lake Placid sold out ON THE SPOT the day after the race. Our friend Eric, who had done the race before, advised him to volunteer in order to ensure entry through priority registration.

While we both volunteered, I did not intend to register for the following year. I mean – I had only just finished an Olympic – and hadn’t even completed my first half ironman yet. Who signs up for a full before completing half? Apparently, people do. You know who you are ;-).

I really didn’t know what to expect from this experience, and I thought an Ironman was something only the most elite athletes could undertake. I did NOT fit this category.

But, you know, things happened throughout the course of that day. If you’ve ever spectated an Ironman – you know what I mean. I saw so many different people–ages, shapes, sizes, abilities. I began to imagine myself – my body – pushing through those distances.

This day was the beginning: I started to believe in the impossible being possible. While I had already run marathons, I didn’t think of them as impossible. Sure, they were hard, but I just did the training, and knew I could cover the distance.

Ironman seemed quite different to me than a marathon. I really didn’t know if I could do “that.” As I watched the athletes go through the day, I remember the small glimmer in my mind shining more and more brightly: I might be able to do this. As I waited in line the next day to sign up – scared out of my head – I kept repeating in my head: You CAN do this. Yes, you. You can.

For those of you not familiar with how the registration process used to work, I’ll give you some context. The morning after the race, we got in a line that started at the Lake Placid High School, and then snaked it’s way down main street. Hundreds upon hundreds of people got in line. Registration started around 7 or 8 a.m., but people who didn’t volunteer (and get the priority registration) would start getting in line right at midnight, as that year’s IMLP came to a close.

That morning, it took an hour or so for us to finally get to the front of the line at the doors of the Lake Placid High School gymnasium. An hour of thinking: What in the actual F * C K am I doing in this line?! 

Registration desks.

The line that used to form out of the high school toward and down Main Street.

Inside was a row of tables, each with a person who took our information and payment.

I filled out the paperwork, and the volunteer told me the price. At the time, it was just under $600, including all the fees. John was a few tables down from me, and I exclaimed (in the echoing high school gym): “Do you know how much this COSTS?!?!?!”

Yes. I was so green that I had no idea that an Ironman cost several hundreds of dollars. There were rounds of laughter in response to my dull amazement.

I threw my money plastic down, and registered. We would figure out how to pay that off somehow.

Fast forward to this summer as I returned for the 10th time to spectate Ironman Lake Placid 2018. I have completed this race 4 times (2010, 2011, 2013, 2017), and spectated the other 6 years. I will never miss this race so long as I am graced with the health and wealth to be there. It is my Superbowl-Christmas-dream-vacation all wrapped into one.

My first finish in that Olympic Oval, back in 2010, was one of the best days of my life. It still ranks as my #1 all-time favorite moment in Lake Placid. I will never forget the joy and gratitude I felt as I finished that race the first time. I came to understand how the body goes all that way. It is in the doing that we gain this understanding – no matter how many times you try to wrap your mind around it before, it is only at the finish line that you can gain some clarity about what you just did.

In that moment, I felt deeply and exhilaratingly how extraordinary the human body – and even more so the mind – can be. The journey to finish the race that year taught me that the corny Ironman slogan is true: anything is possible (but you have to add the follow up: as long as you are willing to work for it). To this day, I cannot watch this video that John took without crying for the woman I became that day:

I was fundamentally changed forever.

At Ironman Lake Placid 2018, I had my #2 all-time favorite experience in this village. I train and race because it brings me joy. It’s that simple. Of course, no every day is joyful, but if I add it all together – the sum total is joy.

This year, I cheered ALL. DAY. LONG. as 11 of our No Limits athletes and another dozen or more friends (who filled my tracker app!) entered Mirror Lake and made their way 140.6 miles to the Olympic Oval. These athletes are not simply clients. Coaching is not a base financial transaction; it is a partnership. These men and women have become our friends, and their dreams have become my dreams.

I wanted each of them to feel that deep sense of joy and gratitude that I felt that first finish in Lake Placid.

The sunrise race morning.

The bullhorn never sleeps.

Pre-race with some of our athletes.

The cheering squad waiting for the first of the bikes to come by. It started out chilly and raining – and then the sun came out and it was toasty.

I love coaching. Being able to work with athletes who dig deep, who set big dreams, and work hard to make them happen is not like work at all. It’s my own big dream coming true.

The No Limits Art Department hard at work.

Signs for our athletes on the course.

Our buddy Joe, who we met back in 2010 when we all did IMLP for the first time together. We have been friends ever since and see each other EVERY year.

Da Rock!!

A moment of quiet contemplation before it all goes down.

These people have trusted us with their dreams – and to watch them work to make it happen fills me with an absolute EUPHORIA. (It certainly fueled my 17-hour bullhorn session.) I was asked a few times if I missed racing that day: Nope. Not even a little bit. As I searched the faces of these athletes, I saw their fulfillment. I witnessed their hard work and grit. I felt their joy. I want to suck those feelings through a straw and let them feed my soul for days. 

I know that these athletes have hard moments. I saw it. There is nothing in sports I love more than to see someone reaching inside of that well of endless reserves – and digging. Digging. DIGGING. 

It is those hard moments that make the finish line so intense: when we find what is inside of us to keep digging, when we become full with the power of our body and mind, when we come into ourselves and learn what a badass we are. Coming out on the other side of those hard moments brings with it a swagger that no one can ever take away from us. This moment is not about the brand Ironman. It’s not even about the iron-distance race (any type of race can do this for us!). This fulfillment, this intense joy comes from the work we’ve put in for months on end to find our way to the finish line of our dreams.

I found myself reflecting quite a bit this year at Ironman Lake Placid–more so than any other year. The journey that began years ago has gone places I never would have imagined, and led me to people who have become such an important community in my life. And, the connections go further than I even realize.

Before endurance sport became my lifestyle, I created a small box for myself to live within. It was known. It was certain. It was safe.

It was boring.

I have since learned that living outside of this box, constantly pushing the edges of my comfort zone is where real living is done. So, an ironman is simply one vehicle of many that we can choose to pursue the seemingly impossible dream that pushes us beyond the limits of what we think we can accomplish.

We can achieve the impossible if we screw on our courage, set our determination, and do the hard work to make those dreams a reality.

Find your “something” – whatever it is – and chase it down with all the zest and zeal you have inside of you. It is totally worth it.